


for blue, blue skies

by railonsakq



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Post ME2/Pre ME3, Seriously., i was just sad and in love with shakarian yet again in 2k20, no action at all just a lot of thinking, please don't anticipate something mindblowing, shepard is the earthborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/railonsakq/pseuds/railonsakq
Summary: But they don't need a sky when their hands touch each other.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Kudos: 10





	for blue, blue skies

**Author's Note:**

> yeah like everyone may have written the exact same fic but hey more cake is better than none right  
> i've played through all the trilogy five years ago, before i've started posting my fanfiction online under my username, and i certainly did not plan to write mass effect fanfiction like at all. but shakarian is still dear to my heart i guess  
> this fic is a shoutout to my stupid head that didn't realise her crush on garrus through all the entirety of ME1 while picking renegade options in conversations wih him "just to be on the same wavelength"

The Shepard's sky is blue. It's the same home planet, but the skies isn't shrouded with smog, like when she was young; a part of her is glad something was done with that, the other part wants this planet, with all the memories about her childhood, to burn in hell.

She didn't want to return here, but, luckily, she doesn't have to stay in her rotten to the core hometown.

The Earth taught her different things, which she brought to her service without any thought. She tried to be “a better person”, as Anderson saw it, tried to do things the way she wouldn't do if given freedom, but sometimes, when the right listener came around, she revealed the kind of person she was.

The end justifies the means, — she teached Garrus on the Normandy SR1, when they were pursuing Saren. Maybe, that's why he left for Omega after she died.

Seeing him there made her think that all her beliefs were a mistake and all her actions weren't cowardice. That, quite the contrary, she stepped over herself and did the right thing.

Garrus clearly didn't like that. Garrus, possibly, didn't see the Shepard he used to listen to quite intently two years ago.

They were in such a stupid situation. Shepard was a bad example, not the one who should teach anyone about anything.

She just hopes Garrus has figured out the same thing eventually.

The sky is blue; the same deep shade that was the aquarium at her quarters. She didn't turn off the lighting when she went to sleep, and Garrus' carapace cast blue light in the darkness.

Blue, like the skies of the Earth, blue, like — what's more important — Garrus' face tattoo.

Garrus, Shepard thinks every day just as she wakes up. How are you holding up there, Garrus? Not getting into new troubles, I hope? Won't I have to rescue you again?

She wants to hope that she's changed his life for the better, that it wasn't a mistake to not leave him on the Citadel. But, maybe, it wouldn't save him anyway. He was already at his breaking point, he was ready to go and dispense justice where this word was never heard of; Shepard had just postponed him moving to Omega. And then the Illusive Man noticed him anyway, and then Shepard brought him along with her on the Suicide Mission, anyway.

She really, honestly hopes that after that, after being prepared to die, Garrus has started to appreciate his life. What else this experience was for?

She just hopes that that all wasn't in vain. She just hopes that Garrus doesn't put himself in danger, more than necessary, at least.

She is worried, — that's unusual for her. She wants to know how is he there. Where is he. She just knows he's far, far away, several mass relays away, when all she wants is just to see him and make sure he's alright.

Her sky is blue; she looks at it and sees lights, not knowing if this is just a satellite or the sun of the turian home planet. She can just look at the sky, waiting for a single word from him, wordlessly herself; but soon, the Reapers will come down from it, burning everything, from earth to skies, painting it red, and Shepard will go to Mars, and then to the alien moon, native to him.

*

The colour of Garrus' sky doesn't matter, — he doesn't look at it, too busy. There hasn't been a day on Palaven when he's been sitting idly, but he still doesn't sleep well, with his head being clouded with thoughts about everything, every night: he thinks about coming war, about how many time they have left, if it'll be enough for them to get ready.

About Shepard.

He thinks about her more frequently than when he thought about her first time she died; he worries, though knowing she is safe for now. But the Reapers are coming, and they'll for sure come for her first. Will he be able to tell her everything he has wanted to say?

Why does he worry if it's Shepard he's thinking about? She came back from being dead. Of course she'll manage to beat couple of the Reapers until Garrus will manage to arrive to fight alongside her.

But will it be appropriate to tell her anything he's been harboring from… half a year ago? Three years ago? He's been thinking that for eternity, as he feels. But it sure isn't an eternity.

It feels like a whole new unexplored galaxy opened up for him. And he is afraid, a bit, to spoil its untouched beauty, like he damages, destroys everything he touches.

Nothing goes right for him. Nothing.

Except that one night, though awkward, like they were teenagers, not knowing what to do even with their own bodies; but it was certainly a night to remember. 

And oh boy, does he remember.

He doesn't touch himself at nights, because his rough hands don't compare with the soft touch of a human hand. He wasn't lying when he said he didn't have a thing for humans; he wanted one particular human to touch him. That was different.

He shouldn't fall in love. He shouldn't. Shouldn't.

He falls.

It's so simple to fall in love with your dearest friend, that Garrus falls in that trap, and can do nothing about that. It's so easy for him to shift his perspective a bit; and love sure comes close with friendship. He doesn't even notice the change; he considers her the closest person to him anyway, whichever way they'll end up.

But it'll hurt like hell if — when — she says that no, Garrus. I don't think about you that way.

He tries to prepare for that, looking at the mirror every morning, watching his scars fade away, like his hopes.

One hope, though, remains: that she's okay. That the Reapers won't get her. That he'll be able to see her again, just one more time, at least.

He looks upwards to the sky, first time in a while, straying his eyes, praying, asking, in remembrance of human traditions, the shooting stars: let her be safe.

Let her sky keep her safe.

*

There isn't any sky above them; just the limitless vast space and the burning planet. But they don't need a sky when their hands touch each other.

They have many questions: do you care? Have you thought about me? Is it selfish to want you when the world comes crashing down? But everything they can do is touch each other, briefly.

But they still have time. Not a lot, but enough to be, to spark, to fall. To remember something while dying, to remember something for the rest of their life — while looking for her blue skies.


End file.
